


Under My Skin

by ELG



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 16:31:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ELG/pseuds/ELG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'The Broca Divide' Missing Scene. Jack O'Neill first person thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under My Skin

Damn.

Now I'm going to have to apologize to Carter as well. That stupid tank top joke. Oh well, perhaps I can blame it on the residual Neanderthal germs that are still starving in my now histamine-free system. 

I know I'm going to have to go over there in a minute and tell our limping linguist that I'm sorry I punched him, and I _really_ don't want to. I'm not saying that Daniel needs to see me as infallible – although wouldn't _that_ be nice? – but I definitely think he needs to see me as being right at least most of the time. Otherwise he's not going to do what I tell him and if he doesn't do what I tell him…well, let's face it, there are going to be lemmings out there who could probably get a better deal on their life insurance.

That's the worst part about getting a parasitic virus that makes you act like a caveman – really undermines your authority.

Makepeace from SG-3 keeps giving me these 'What? Are you nuts?" looks as he gazes around at my team as we make our way back to the Stargate. Okay, one theoretical-astrophysicist-cum-Air Force captain of what some might consider the 'wrong' gender; one bald-headed alien with a dangerous parasite inside him; and one fairly vague academic who needs to be reminded to do up his own bootlaces before walking up the ramp, _might_ not seem like the perfect team with which to take on the universe but, hell, it works for me. Let Makepeace go in with his jarheads and I'll go in with my people and we'll see who lives the longest. Or we won't, because Daniel will probably get himself captured ten minutes after we step through the gate after first having taken great care to put his sidearm down somewhere he can't possibly get to it….

Don't go there. Supposed to be apologizing to him, remember? Not bawling him out. But I do know I may have made a wrong decision when I gave Hammond that 'I don't have a problem with him' look when Daniel was asking – well, pretty much demanding – to be on the team. Daniel could well turn out to be a danger to himself and the rest of us and perhaps I should have put my foot down, but he's a hard guy to say no to; quite apart from the fact he can talk you to death, he has this…vulnerability that makes disappointing or thwarting him seem as cruel and unnecessary as canceling a child's trip to Disneyland just out of spite. 

And at the time, his wife had just been abducted, the guy was homeless, friendless, penniless, was sleeping on my couch and wearing my hand me downs; subsisting entirely on caffeine as far as I could make out, hadn't slept in I don't know how long…I mean, he had _nothing_ except the fancy letters after his name and his hope that he might be able to rescue Sha're from the Goa'uld. I was going to take that hope away from him? And anyway, I owe him, big time; I'd be dead if it wasn't for him. And…and I don't have to justify myself so I'm not going to. Daniel's on the team and that's all there is to it. 

But at some point he and I are going to have to have a serious talk about him doing what he's told. Which is going to be a little tricky, partly because he's a civilian, but also because I would really like him to get it through his shaggy blond head that if I'm not around I want him to do what Carter says, and if Carter and I both aren't around I want him to do what Teal'c says. Hmm. Think I might need to drip-feed that one into his consciousness rather than stating it directly. I mean, saying: 'Daniel, let's face it, you have no survival skills and very little common sense, so anyone in the world is going to be better at looking after you than you are' is probably not going to go down too well. I'll have to work my way round that one carefully. 

Only first, damnit, I'm going to have to admit to being in the wrong when what I _really_ want to do is bawl Daniel out for having let himself get caught.

I mean what the _hell_ was he thinking? I've managed to get from Teal'c what happened – Daniel putting down his weapon to pick up that girl, letting himself get grabbed by the Touched like that. How he's even still alive is a complete mystery to me. I can only presume that he didn't seem threatening enough to kill once they had him by himself, unless... It's those intervening couple of hours before his anti-histamine tablets wore off that are preying on my mind. I haven't dared ask how his clothes got so shredded, for instance, not with Makepeace around. Might explain why they didn't just kill him, but…

Don't be paranoid, Jack. His clothes got ripped when they dragged him through the forest, okay? You _know_ that's all that happened. And they didn't kill him, because Daniel showed enough sense to keep his head down. He is an anthropologist after all, so he probably curled up tight in a corner, hoping they'd forget about him, and it worked. I mean the Touched weren't people who were going to be getting their invitations to join MENSA anytime soon and Daniel does have a couple of PhDs, so even if he couldn't outfight them or outrun them, he could probably outthink them just long enough to keep himself alive before the virus kicked in and made him one of them.

I look across at the object of my thoughts and frown. Daniel's still limping. I've been assuming the unsteady gait is caused by muscle spasms from the change back to normality – I had those myself, but they wore off quite quickly with me and should certainly have worn off with him by now. Daniel has a hand to the back of his head, eyes half closed, arm wrapped around his abdomen. Damnit, the kid is hurting. I hurry to catch up with him, matching him stride for limp. "How are you feeling, Daniel?" I say quietly, not wanting to draw anyone else's attention to him.

Daniel turns to look at me and I realize that his color hasn’t come back. If anything he seems to be getting paler. "A lot better than I was before you found me, Jack."

As Daniel stumbles, I catch his arm and hold him up. "You don't look so hot."

"Well, the Touched weren't the best hosts in the world."

I steal another glance at his ripped uniform, and it's no good, I have to ask: "Didn't get…too friendly, did they?"

Daniel follows my meaningful gaze to his shredded clothes in bewilderment. For a moment he's completely blank, clueless, then his mouth forms a silent 'O' as he finally realizes what I'm asking. And that's when he barely stifles a snigger that would have done credit to a six-year-old. 

Oh great. I've been going through hell here thinking that he…and he thinks it's _funny_. So, okay, as it evidently didn't occur to him even for a millisecond that they might, they obviously didn't, which is something of a relief I must admit; but you don't have to look like that about it, Jackson, it could have happened and there's not a damn thing you could have done to stop it. Dumb academics, all the same, head full of book knowledge and know absolutely nothing about the world. Something else he and I need to have a little chat about then – right after the How Not To Get Yourself Captured conversation, we'd better have the But What To Do And What Not Do If You Are chat as well.

Daniel's still grinning. Glad I asked now. Has obviously cheered him up no end. Making an effort to look as though he's taking me seriously, he says, "God, no. No, they were…traditionalists, Jack. My virtue was definitely safe with them."

"What did they want with you?"

"Well, not that anyway." Daniel starts to laugh and then clutches at his ribs.

A bit of me thinks it serves him right but I make a show of wincing in sympathy and hold onto his arm, supporting him over the rough ground. "So they beat you up?"

"Only if I moved. Or coughed. Or sneezed or something. As long as I stayed absolutely still and didn't speak or make eye contact they just stepped round me."

"But when you moved, or coughed, or sneezed or something…?"

Daniel meets my gaze reluctantly, humor gone. "Okay, yes, they beat me up. But it’s over now. There's no need to keep…"

"Look, I don't want to make a big deal out of this either, but I do need you to just come over here a minute…" I lead him over to where the trees provide a bit of privacy, inviting Daniel to sit down on a stump, and then do the classic test for concussion. "Can you see how many fingers I'm holding up, Daniel?"

He frowns. "Uh – four?"

Oops. Two too many. I sigh. "Close, but no cigar. Okay, I just want to have a quick look at your – Jesus!" I recoil from the wreckage that is Daniel's ribcage. "Christ, Daniel why the hell didn't you _say_ something? They must have kicked you to pieces." I very gently touch his ribs and Daniel immediately sucks in his breath but doesn't cry out. Funny that, always thought of him as whiner, to be honest; well damnit, he _is_ a whiner if he stubs his toe or gets a splinter in his finger, but men with big clubs use his ribcage for a xylophone and he doesn't make a squeak? Go figure. 

I feel his side carefully and at least nothing's grating under my fingers, so I don't think anything's broken but it certainly is bruised. I can practically see the outline of each foot that kicked him. Which reminds me…. "Damn." I look up and meet his blue gaze. "I've just realized I don't know if it was me or the Touched who did this to you."

"It wasn't you, Jack, I swear. To be honest after that first punch you hardly made contact. What do you think tipped us off you weren't yourself?"

It's a poor attempt at humor but a kind thought. I can feel walls tumbling inside myself that I need to stay up. _Damnit, Daniel, don't start getting under my skin. I really don't want to get fond of you_. The trouble is, I already am fond of him and the kid has a degree in getting under the skin of the unsuspecting. You turn around twice and you can't bear the thought of harm coming to him, and then he stands up in front of a staff weapon, or gets himself captured by brutish Neanderthals who proceed to beat him half to death while you utterly fail to save him from them.

"I'm sorry I hit you, Daniel." Odd that it isn't hard to say at all when it comes to it.

Daniel looks at me in surprise. "I didn't think _you_ did, Jack. I thought it was the virus. Don't tell me that was still you in there?" When I don't smile, Daniel frowns. "Look, we all went through it, didn't we? And we all did things we wouldn't have done if we'd been…ourselves." 

His gaze flickers uneasily to Melosha and I don't need to ask what went down there. To be fair to Daniel, the girl probably jumped _him_. She was infected first after all. He has some interesting scratches on his neck that aren't unlike the ones Carter gave me, and although Melosha is only a little bitty thing, she was still probably more than a match for him once that virus got into her. Odd choice for prime breeding stock, of course, our Daniel: full of allergies and barely safe to be let out by himself; not exactly your archetypal hunter-gatherer. Still, aesthetically, he was probably the best of the bunch and at least he and Melosha aren't related.

I already have a suspicion that women are always going to be trouble for this guy. I mean how long did it take Sha're to decide that she liked what she was seeing? Five minutes? Ten? Could have been thirty seconds for all I know. And she was a well brought up Abydonian girl. Must be that puppy-that's-been-left-out-in-the-rain look that gets to them. Yep, I can see all kinds of trouble looming. I'll have to put my faith in that thing about guys not making passes at girls who wear glasses working the other way – and then make damned sure Daniel doesn't move on to contact lenses. The kid's already enough trouble with the wandering off to speak to possibly hostile locals, not knowing how to fire a gun, and having all the razor-sharp reflexes of a throw pillow. Certainly don't need any extra complications. 

Hell, I can see where I cut his lip open. Can remember doing it too. _Not_ my finest hour. I can't help wishing this were the kind of virus you woke up from and didn't remember a damned thing you'd done because I could really do with some kindly amnesia right now. Daniel didn't even attempt to fight back, I do remember that. And he spent far too long trying to reason with me when he should have been getting the hell away from me before I hurt him. As soon as I started coming out with all that Alpha Male crap about Carter he should have been out of there and hitting the alarm button. I mean for crying out loud I'm Special Forces trained, I could have killed him! As soon as he's recovered, I must get him down to the gym and teach him how to fight back. Well, at least how to block a punch. Well, hell, even teaching him how to duck would be a start. 

Damn, now Daniel's looking at me anxiously, worried I might be feeling guilty about having hit him. As if. I'll have to watch what I'm thinking when he's around. Would hate to start being so predictable even an archaeologist can read me like a book. "It's really okay, Jack," he offers softly. 

Yeah, like him being so understanding is helping with my guilt. "I'm still sorry I did it."

"I'm kind of sorry too, but at least I know first hand what a great right hook you have. Quite an asset in a commanding officer, right?" Daniel's worried eyes beg me to smile.

I smile and hold out a hand to help him up. "Let's get you to the infirmary, Daniel. Get those ribs strapped up. Get that concussion seen to. Get you out of those rags and into something that actually covers your skin."

"Actually, I just want to go to sleep. They wouldn't let me…." Daniel changes tack hastily as we pass back into the sunlight. "I'm just really tired. How are you feeling?"

"A lot better for finding you alive."

Daniel looks at me in surprise and I groan inwardly as I see his eyes soften, see how much it means to Daniel that I was scared for him, concerned for him. That it mattered to another living soul whether or not he was alive or dead. Another pile of masonry falls out of the wall.

"Thanks, Jack," Daniel mumbles, looking at his feet. Dumb kid. Didn't it occur to him till now that we might have been worried about him? That _I_ might have been worried about him? What, did he think I had it as number twenty on my To Do list? Number One: recover from virus; Number Two: file report with General Hammond…Number Eighteen: sew loose button back onto uniform; Number Nineteen: finish tax returns; Number Twenty: Oh yes, go see if Daniel might possibly still be alive back on P3X-797.

"Hey…." I stop trying to fight it and put an arm around his shoulders. "Don't think just because I punched your lights out that I'm not fond of you. We military men just have a funny way of showing it. I don't think Teal'c's slept since you went AWOL. Carter's definitely been moping. And I…" I shrug, dropping the banter. "Seriously, you scared us all half to death. Don't do any more stuff like that. Ever."

Daniel makes a sketchy salute that I _really_ hope Makepeace didn't see. "Yes, sir."

"Hairy guys with clubs come near you – run away."

"Got it."

"Damsels in distress – just leave them where they lie. Okay?"

"Understood."

"Do we put our only weapon down on the ground when we are in a potentially dangerous situation…?"

"I don't actually know this one, but I'm guessing the answer you're looking for here is…'no'?"

"Excellent, Doctor Jackson. We'll make a soldier of you yet." I feel Daniel sway and tighten the grip I have on his shoulders. "Want to sit down?"

He darts me a sideways glance full of determination, despite his pallor and the sweat on his brow. "Just want to get back home, Jack."

"Home?" For a moment I think he means Abydos and my heart gives another lurch, pity this time. Christ but this kid is so terribly _alone_.

"Well, the SGC. Your couch. Somewhere I recognize that isn't here. Home."

Not so alone. Daniel doesn't think he's alone. Daniel thinks he has me, Teal'c, Carter, and General Hammond all looking out for him and caring about him. 

And you know what? Daniel's right.

We're passing back into the Land of Dark but it doesn't seem such a frightening place now that most of the Touched are cured. It's not too far to the Stargate from here and Daniel's already looking better. I squeeze his shoulder gently and say, "Okay, Daniel, let's go home."

##### The End


End file.
